Love Sucks
by Uncle Charlie
Summary: A succubus is wandering the streets of Sunnydale - will the gang be able to track her down or will they be too busy 'doing what comes naturally?


Poising the knife over his wrist, the man hesitated. He didn't need a lot of blood, but he was worried that he might not be able to stop the flow once it began. It seemed senseless to risk his life now when he was this close to succeeding in his quest for eternal youth. He spent his younger days traveling the worlds to obtain the right ingredients. He'd gone to all the great libraries and sought out their darkest corners for the right volumes. He read the spell again and shook his head. The words couldn't be translated any other way. Gritting his teeth, he sliced the tender skin of his wrist and the blood weld up, trickling into the silver chalice before him, he mumbled the words through the pain that the incision caused. Smoke began to billow from the cup, first green, then pink and then a more ominous black. Hastily, he put down the knife and wrapped gauze around his wrist, pulling it tight to stop the flow of blood. Being constantly anemic, the thought of bleeding to death terrified him. That fear, however, was pulled from his mind as a voice cut through the cloud of pain that had floated down over his eyes.

"What is your bidding, my lord?"

"You came."

"Just as you summoned." The demon, in woman shape, bowed low to her new lord. He knew it was merely a formality for she could crush him in a second. "How may I serve you?"

A shower of gossamer ash floated down over her and Buffy Summers watched it fall to earth. She spit out a bit of dust. One more vampire had met a dusty end. It was hard to believe that just a handful of this stuff had moments ago nearly succeeded in kicking her ass. Either she was getting old or that vampire was a lot faster than the others. That didn't seem quite possible - he was a fledgling. She'd watched him climb from his grave.

"Maybe Giles is right. I do need to train a little more," she muttered, brushing off her coat sleeve. Buffy was having a hard time concentrating these days and that could lead to trouble considering her line of work. She was the Chosen One, the Slayer.

Once hurt in a fight, she'd gone to Spike to find out what had happened. He'd killed two Slayers and she wanted to know how. What had made that fight special? It had all boiled down to one thing. The Slayers had had a very bad day. The way Buffy was going, her bad day was lurking right around the corner. Then she smiled because she knew exactly what she needed to make her feel better. She'd cut across Pinecrest and go over one cemetery and kicked the boo-jees out of Spike. That always brightened her day…night…whatever. The fact that he couldn't fight back didn't matter to her. He was evil, he deserved to get his ass kicked.

The sounds she heard made her brake suddenly. They were half familiar, half foreign. Her carefully honed slayer senses were sort of tingling, but not in a way she'd ever experienced before. It wasn't exactly a vampire's growl, but sort of kind of like it. Buffy stood quietly, straining to hear when she suddenly became aware of a warm glowing feeling flushing through her, one of a certain urgency that stained her cheeks red and made her breath quicken. It made her thighs ache and her eyes half closed with passion. Suddenly, a picture of Spike came to mind, pale in the moonlight, of him kissing her, caressing her face, her body, taking her right there making her scream his name over and over again.

"Ohmigod," Buffy blurted out. "Bad Buffy thoughts," she chastised herself. Ever since Willow's spell had gone wonky, she'd been consciously running from any thoughts of the platinum blond vampire that didn't involve her beating him up. She didn't want to remember when she had sat on his lap and cuddled, of remembering how natural it felt. How good he felt beneath her, all the things he'd whispered in her ear. "This won't do, Buffy, this is wrong. You got into it once with a vampire and look at how well that ended. And he liked you. Spike would kill you if he could. You're a vampire slayer, woman!"

She rounded the crypt and stopped her chastising. A boy and a woman were doing the horizontal tango vertically against a tomb, both lost in throes of passion that made them blind and deaf to the world around them. Buffy blushed even more at the sight and quickly turned her back. "Sorry, guys, didn't know this graveyard was being used," she mumbled as she did an about face and began to run, putting as much distance between her, the scene and her own disturbing thoughts as possible.

This, in itself was a pity, for is she had stayed a moment longer, she would have seen the boy, suddenly an old man, crumble to the ground, his life force spent. The girl stepped casually over the body, her visage changing into that of Lilitu as she walked away. Her master would be pleased. His renewal had begun and her quest for dominance was one step closer. Her new master didn't realize what immortality at Lilitu's hand meant to his pitiful existence. Forever is a long time to burn in a hell dimension and her master had just taken one step closer.

Even before he got out of bed, he could feel it, a sort of renewed vigor working through his limbs. Slowly, carefully, mindful of his bad back, he climbed from his bed and cautiously flexed. For the first time in years, his joints didn't ache and his back didn't pinch. There was nothing to remind him for his inevitable slide into old age. This put a spring in his step as he went to the bathroom and stopped as he caught his reflection in the mirror. The image reflected back at him was much the same, but he detected a less gray hair, even a little hair sprouting where yesterday there had been none. Granted the color wasn't his, a shade or two lighter, but that didn't matter. It made him look like he had highlights. Wrinkles around his eyes seemed less prevalent, his skin more elastic. This was very good, very good indeed. He liked this new demon and he was glad that he'd taken the time researching to pick one that was as dumb as she was beautiful. He knew of all the consequences that followed and exactly how to bend them to his will. Demons were so-o-o stupid.

Before Buffy, the professor was droning on and on, mostly about himself and his adventures when he had gone to Greece and all the phallic symbolism in their society. This would have been fine if this had been a class in architecture or geography, but this was suppose to be American Theater. Buffy was so going to kill Willow for having talked her into the class. At first, the professor's stories were sort of interesting and fun. Now the stories just bordered on the insipid and Buffy found herself wishing they'd get back to the lesson plan, especially since the tests seemed largely based upon material that was never introduced in the lectures or talked about in his textbook. It was just this sort of thing that made her miss Professor Walsh and the Initative. She squashed the feelings immediately at the thought of Riley. She just so didn't want to go there.

"Does this guy know how many of his students are actually laughing at him, not with him?" Buffy's best friend, Willow Rosenburg, whispered as, true to form, the professor had managed to make yet another sort of sexual innuendo. A splattering of forced laugher rumbled through the lecture hall.

"Some people will do anything to keep their GPAs up," Buffy whispered back. "His lips keep moving, but all I hear is blah, blah, blah." The bell rang and she slumped back in her seat. "Thank the powers that be that class is over. How many more days until break?" Buffy looked down into the lecture hall at the small group of students clustered about the professor.

"Way too many. I am so ready for this semester to be over and I don't usually say that, me liking school and all."

"I wanna ask you something, Willow. There's one thing I don't get."

"Ooo, just one thing? Buffy, you rock my world. You are so lucky." Willow broke off to laugh as they gathered up their books.

Buffy gave her friend a gentle push, mindful of her slayer strength. "Give me a break. I'm trying to be all serious and you're being all Ellen Degeneres."

"Sorry, didn't know we were being serious." Willow's face grew sober. "So, what's up?"

"Look at him" She gestured towards the instructor with her notebook. "He's old, he's fat, balding, who knows what else is wrong with him and all those girls just fawn over him. Why?"

"They want a good grade and they don't want to study? I am so on today." Willow laughed again as they exited the lecture hall. "I'm sorry, serious face now." She frowned thoughtfully. "So you want to know what attracts someone to someone else?"

"I mean," She paused, sighing. "What makes people who obviously are so wrong for each other feel it's so right?"

"Any someone is particular?"

"If you mention this to anyone, I will so hurt you. It's Spike." What was she doing? Why was she saying this?

"Spike?!" Willow blurted out the name and choked. "You want Spike? Oh my goddess, we have to…there he is now, Buffy. Go to him! Tell him!"

Startled, the young woman looked up as the vampire sauntered through the double doors of Douglas Hall. What would Spike be doing here at the college in the middle of the day? Why was he shirtless? Why had the world slowed down and tilted slightly? More importantly, why wasn't he on fire?

"You have to tell him," Willow said, waving her hand. "Spike, Buffy loves you!" Buffy stared at her friend and then suddenly she and Spike were on the floor in the throes of passionate lovemaking, a crowd of people around them, watching and holding up cards with numbers on them.

Buffy sat back in her chair with a startled expression on her face. A couple curious heads turned in her direction, but otherwise she was ignored. Before her, the professor was on about Corfu now, unaware of his students. He was obviously in serious story telling mode now and his attention was firmly focused upon his past glories.

"Buffy, are you okay?" Willow leaned closer to her friend. "You were really zonked out there for a minute."

""I'm fine, just had a nightmare." Buffy leaned over to retrieve a fallen pencil. If she dropped it just a little further, she could crawl out of the lecture hall and no one, particularly the professor, would even know she was gone. "A particularly disturbing nightmare. Did he, and I'm laughing as I say this, say anything important?"

"Please! He hasn't said anything important since he introduced himself in September. Not even then, I'm thinking."

"Willow!" Buffy's stage whisper drew attention and she slumped back down in her seat. Her friend watched her for a moment and then whispered back.

"I'm just angry, you know. I paid good money for this class and I'm just not getting my money's worth. It's all me, me, blah, blah, blah, me, me. I am so ready for this semester to be over and I don't usually say that, me liking school and all."

A twinge of familiarity washed through the young blonde and she smiled hesitantly, determined to take the conversation in a different direction. "Complain to the dean."

"A lot of good that would do. For all I know, those two are study buddies."

"That will be all," the instructor intoned as he slammed shut his textbook, causing several dozing people in the hall to jump at the noise. "Remember that your papers are due next week. Don't wait until the last minute, people. They will count for a large portion of your grade."

"Maybe we should write a paper about him. That would be sure to please. We could probably even check out his website," Willow said as the young women stood, gathering up their possessions. "Get shirts or buttons or something."

"You really should," gushed the woman sitting beside them. "This guy is so awesome. He's like a god. It's like he's seen everything, done everything. And here he is teaching in Sunnydale. How awesome is that?"

"He does everything except lecture about the course material. And what's his web site – dullboringprofessordotcom," Willow muttered as the woman bounced down the stairs to the desk, her waist-length hair swing about her. "And there goes the future gene pools. I'm starting to see the upside of genetic engineering. So, your dream, Buffy, you mean like a Slayer nightmare? A prophecy?"

"There was slaying potential…of a sort. There were stakes involved, kinda"

"Was it about Angel?" Willow giggled just a little.

"Definitely not Angel." She hesitated and then glanced over at her best friend as they walked from the room. "Willow, how do you know when it's right?"

Willow paused by the water fountain to get a drink. "When what's right?"

"Love? I mean, how did you know with Tara? You'd never even looked at a woman before her and then, bang!"

"No bangs," Willow blurted nervously, looking around her. Softer, she continued, "We have done nothing with banging involved."

"I don't mean that. It was all Oz before her. Even then, how did you know?"

"Beats me." Willow thought for a long moment as they weaved their way through the crowded hallway. "With Oz, I just knew it and when it came time to…you know…um, banging, it just seemed right and comfortable and exactly what it was supposed to be. What about you and Angel? Talk about opposites"

"We had sex, he lost his soul, and tries to kill everyone. And the only one who can actually help me was a wheelchair ridden, revenge-seeking Spike. And the only reason that happened to Angel was because I slept with him. Now I'm here and he's not because he couldn't stand to be around me anymore."

"I understand. I felt the same way. Oz and me, we were forever and then suddenly…he's gone. But then, just as suddenly, there's Tara and it's like serendipity."

"Sarah who now?"

"Serendipity. It's the name that people give to things that they can't quite believe were accidents. Maybe this is the wisdom that comes with age that they are always talking about."

"Aged wisdom. Then maybe I need to talk with Mom."

"Haven't you had that talk with here yet, Buffy? Why, Miss Summers, I am shocked."

Buffy gave her friend a playful shove. "You are so twisted. I'll see you back at the dorm later. Maybe we could start working on that stupid paper."

It was amazing. He had been so on today. He held everyone's attention and had had several comments from colleagues asking him if he'd gotten a hair cut, new clothes, more sleep. People knew there was something different about him. He unlocked the heavy door to his house and looked over at the woman asleep on the couch. It was all because of her. She had fed and he felt like a million bucks. Granted it was all at the expense of a young man, but he looked upon it as a form of population control. After all, there were no real wars to worry about, no plagues or catastrophic diseases. He was merely helping thin the herd. Of course it stood to reason that he was terrified of her, not so much because she was a soul-sucking demon, but because she was gorgeous. She was easily the most beautiful woman he'd even seen, and thanks to Internet access, he'd seen quite a few. She stirred and sat up, bowing down to the man.

"What is your bidding, my lord?" Ah, a true subservient, she would do anything for him.

"Do what you do best. Go out and feed, my charming huntress."

She bowed her head again and rose easily from the couch. Her hair shimmered from gold to red to raven black as she walked, deciding upon a visage for the evening. Whatever her guise, it wouldn't matter. These college boys were easy picking. They were all so hungry for the fruits of the flesh just as her master was hungry for their youth.

Buffy was walking slowly away from the campus when she heard the running footsteps. Automatically, she gauged the distance and braced herself. The sun has just set, but not all demons waited for the dark to attack.

"Hey, Buffster!"

The sound of her friend's voice edged through her adrenaline and she relaxed.

"Hey, how you doing, college girl?" Xander Harris braked to a stop beside her. He'd purposefully given the Slayer lots of warning. You only needed to get a fist full of Buffy once before you learned that lesson.

"Hi, Xander, how are things? We haven't seen you much lately."

"Oh, Anya's been keeping me pretty…busy…with stuff."

Buffy laughed. "Yea, I'll bet." She looked over at the dark-haired man. When she moved to Sunnydale, Xander had a huge crush on her, Willow had a huge crush on him and she had eyes only for Angel. So, naturally, they all ignored each other and paid the prices for their choices. Now, Xander was dating an ex-demon, Willow was with a witch and Buffy was…at odds. "Xander, can I ask you something in all seriousness?"

"Not my best topic, but I'll try. What up?"

"How did you know Anya was the one?"

"Oh, that's easy, she told me." Buffy laughed and Xander joined her. "No, I'm serious. She showed up in the basement and said we were going to have sex until she got me out of her system. So far, so good, I'm still in there…her system, I mean."

"But how did you know?"

"I don't, not even now. But there's a sense of yummy goodness about it, like the first moment when you bite into a Twinkie. When I'm with Anya, it feels just like that."

"You're the second one to say that to me tonight, although not exactly the same way. You're lucky."

Xander glanced at his watch. "Listen, gotta go, we're catching the "Planet of the Apes" double feature, old one, new one, it'll be great. You wanna come? It's a mad house, a mad house! There will be popcorn…"

"Mmm, sounds yummy, but nah, I got homework and slaying to do. You go on and behave yourself."

"Not with any luck…" Xander glanced up and down the street, then dashed across and was gone in the dwindling light. Maybe she should ask Giles…no, her mother was the best bet.

She stopped on the steps of the porch, hesitating for a moment. She'd only moved out a few months ago, but this no longer felt exactly like home. It was, but it wasn't. There was the tinge of unfamiliarity about it, like a pot had been moved, the swing recovered. She opened the door and stepped into the entrance area. She was about to shout when she heard voices coming from the kitchen, her mom's and one more masculine, both very soft and intimate.

"Mom and a date, I caught her with the goods. Even my mom is getting it on and here sits poor freak Buffy," Buffy murmured as she softly closed the front door. She moved quietly through the hallway and peaked through the creak in the kitchen door. Her mom was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of wine and was laughing. She looked so happy, so relaxed. The tension that the divorce had etched deeply into her face had seemingly melted and for a moment, her face seemed younger.

"All right, you two, I caught you…" Buffy swung around the door and slammed to a stop. "What the hell are you doing here?"

William the Bloody, aka Spike, due to his love of torturing his victims with railroad spikes, was sitting across from her mother, a cup of hot chocolate in front of him. His hands were neatly folded in front of him and his knee-length duster was draped carefully over the back of the chair.

"Buffy!"

" 'Lo, Slayer." Spike inclined his head towards her.

"I asked you a question, Spike! What are you doing here?"

"Buffy!" Her mother frowned at her daughter.

"No, it's all right, Joyce. I'm used to it." Spike leaned back in the chair and regarded the young blonde slowly. "I'm just having a chat with your mum."

"You're chatting up my mother?"

"No, having a chat with. Gaw, Slayer, git yer mind out of the gutter." He lifted the cup. "Joyce here is nice to talk with, plus she makes the best hot chocolate in these parts."

"Get out, Spike!" Buffy screamed the order and pointed to the door, her finger actually trembling. Spike caught the movement and frowned

"Buffy Summers, that's just rude." Joyce had risen from her spot at the table.

"Mom, he's a vampire!"

"Maybe, but he's not the one acting like a monster right now."

"Oooo," Buffy turned on her heel and stalked out. Spike stood to follow her, but Joyce caught his arm.

"Better let her cool off for a minute. I'm used to these moods. It doesn't make them any easier, but you do get used to them." Joyce released him to stared down at her cup, embarrassed by the actions of her first born. "I'm sorry about that. I don't know what got into her."

"You're right, she'd probably stake me." Spike allowed as they retook their seats. He could smell the anger rolling off the Slayer, but he was confused with what had set her off. This wasn't exactly the first time he visited with Joyce and it wasn't like they were doing thing more than talking and it wasn't like he'd hurt Joyce, not that he could thanks to the government's handy work. He just liked spending time with Joyce, She felt like a mum to him, a bit like his mum when he was human and he missed that closeness that sense of connection. It brought back all sorts of memories, some warm and gloriously wonderful, some not so happy. "As this is really good hot chocolate, I guess I could give her a pass for the moment."

"I thought vampires only drank blood." The truth of the matter was that Joyce was insanely lonely since her daughter had moved to the college campus. Spike might not be entirely human, but he was company and he was male and the looks she got when the two of them went out was too delicious for words. Men checked her out and wondered what she had that could attract such a man. The women checked out the platinum blond and eyed her with a mixture of envy and jealousy.

"Naw, we can eat anything, but it won't sustain us. That's what the marshmallow are for." He popped another into his mouth and chewed contentedly.

Joyce laughed and pushed the bag closer to him. She knew that her daughter and this particular vampire had a long violent history together, nearly as long as the one Buffy shared with Angel. She remembered hitting Spike over the head with an axe when he tried to kill Buffy the first time. There were many more incidents that followed. But when Angel went bad, Spike was there to help, certainly for his own reasons, but he was good to his word. These two were at each other's throats from Day One. Yet, Spike was still here and only heavens knew where Angel was anymore, which was fine with Joyce. She didn't like that particular vampire, souled or not. Despite everything that had been told to her about William the Bloody, all the warnings, Joyce had never feared Spike. She should be terrified of him, but she wasn't. How could anyone be afraid of a vampire with a chocolate mustache?

Buffy Summers felt the ground pounding beneath her feet, the cool Southern California air whipping against her face, but all she could hear was her mother's voice defending the vampire. How could she do that? Didn't she know her daughter was the Chosen One, The Vampire Slayer?! Everything was so off these days, like the world had tilted and everyone else, except her, had adjusted. She stopped and looked up at her surroundings. Not surprisingly, her feet had led her to a graveyard. She pitied the vampires that got in her way tonight.

And it was if they knew that. There were no one around, no vampires, no demons, no no one. Her frustration and thirst for violence grew by the moment until she was ready to scream to keep from exploding. She walked through some bushes and stumbled to a stop. A man was sprawled out on his back, a woman astride him, obviously engaged in increasing the population.

"Oh, great, just what I needed to night. Get a hotel room, guys!" She shouted as she continued quickly past.

"Wha?" The man groggily propped himself up on his elbows, as if waking from a deep sleep. The woman shook her head, pushing him back.

"Never mind her, my love. She is just jealous. She wants to be with you and she can't. Don't think of here, think only of me. Concentrate only on me, on the sensations, of how I make you feel."

Buffy turned the corner and tripped over a clump of bushes. Slayer instinct kept here from seriously hurting herself, but not from falling to her knees and starting to cry, not from pain, but just from life itself. Ever since she'd moved out of the house, the world had become foreign to her. Her relationship with her friends was strained these days. Giles, no longer her Watcher, frequently left her to her own devices, suddenly absorbed in having a life of his own and actually dating. And her mother was taking up with Spike. Didn't her mother know Spike was hers?

She stopped abruptly in mid thought. Where did **that** come from? She hated Spike and yet she felt herself drawn more and more to him these days. It was like there was some sort of connection, a connection she wanted very badly to be broken and yet at the same time clung vainly to. It just wasn't fair. Everyone else had lives that were just fine, but hers was a mess.

"It's still supposed to be about me," she muttered through her tears.

"Slayer?"

Buffy, her face tear stained, looked up at the blond vampire. "Great, fabulous, just what I need to make my night complete. What do you want, Spike? Here to rub more salt into the wounds"

Spike knelt beside her, his countenance concerned. "If that's what you'd like. Dru used to be partial to it. I was worried about the way you took off like that. Are you hurt?" He repeated himself slower, just in case she'd hit her head. "Slayer? Buffy, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Suddenly, Buffy felt a gush of passion for the vampire. She wanted to throw herself on him, kiss him, take him, and make him…it was wrong, wrong, wrong. "What's wrong with me?" Tears threatened again and she bit her lip to keep them in check.

If he was confused by the question, the vampire didn't let on. "I dunno, let's have a look." What did confuse him was the way the Slayer heart was pounding, the waves of heat coming off her body. "From what I can see, you look fine." 'You've always looked fine to me, even when you're trying to bash me face in,' he thought to himself. He always felt great passion for her, be it love or hate, for her, but it suddenly welled up in his chest. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her lips full and red. She looked so alone, so helpless that he just wanted to take her in his arms…and then the object of his adoration would remove his head from his body and he would be William the Dusty. Buffy had let it be known in very plain English that she was not interested in him. He sighed and pushed his feelings away.

"I'm not fine…I'm…so messed up right now."

"Naw, I think you just need to get home and get cleaned up. Yer mum is worried sick about you."

"You were taking care of her just fine."

"Cor, you are in a mood tonight, Slayer. I told you, I was just talkin' to her. Sometimes I like to talk to people. To other adults that aren't, you know, dead. Yer mum's a good listener. You'd know that if you ever slowed down a minute and tried it." He offered her a hand, and after a moment she took it. He pulled her easily to her feet and she dropped the hand suddenly it as if the cool skin burned hers. "She's waiting for you." He pushed her gently in the general direction of her house and Buffy let him. He followed behind her.

They started a route that would take them past the lovers again and Buffy felt her cheeks flame. If Spike saw that, there would be all sorts of cracks and innuendos. "There's a couple over that way. We should leave them alone."

Spike glanced over. "No, just a fella asleep from the looks of it."

"Talk about your bad choices. He might as well have a sign around his neck that says, eat me." Buffy started to walk towards the man. "Come on, guy, it's not safe to sleep…"

"Buffy, he's dead." Spike's voice was soft, but it was enough to freeze her in her tracks.

"How do you know?"

"Only one heartbeat in the general vicinity, pet, and that's yours."

"But he was just…" She approached the man and looked down. "Oh, not the same guy. The couple I saw were in their twenties and this guy's like a hundred and fifty. Guess they took my advice and got a hotel room. Lucky them." She added as a whisper. If Spike heard it, the vampire chose not to comment upon it. Instead he took the lead, away from the bench, walking ahead of her, his loose-limbed movement giving him a swagger that made his leather duster dance. All the lust she had for him just seconds before had evaporated and now she just felt the same familiar confusion as before. She didn't want him, so why had she wanted to…?

The phone jangled her out of sleep and she sat up, confused for a moment. Had it been a dream? Faded posters and teenage paraphernalia of her old bedroom were reminders of easier times, although she hadn't thought so then. Everything had seemed so big, so hard in high school, but it had, in fact, been mere training for the real weirdness that was the world now. Then she remembered. Spike had walked her home and her mother had sent her straight to bed, without a comment.

"Sweetheart, are you awake? It's Mr. Giles on the phone for you." Her mother's voice followed a soft tapping on the door.

"Thanks, Mom." She lifted the receiver. "Hi, Giles, what's up?"

"Buffy, are you all right? Willow and, God forbid, Spike were concerned."

"Yeah, I'm good. Last night was just …" What word really explained last night? Her emotions were certainly all over the map. "…different. What's up?"

"Spike said you found a body in Beaumont Cemetery last night."

"Some old guy bought it."

"There is something you need to know. Could you meet me at the Magic Box in an hour?"

The smell of bacon made Buffy's stomach gurgle. "How about an hour and a half? I think my mom's planning on me staying for breakfast."

She walked into the kitchen, towel drying her hair. Her mother looked up from the stove and smiled. "Hungry?"

"Starved. Campus food tries hard, but it just doesn't come close to Mom's cooking" She picked up a piece of bacon that really looked like bacon and not a piece of jerky. She crunched into it and smiled. "Mmm, yummy Mommy goodness."

"Sit and eat, then perhaps we can talk about last night."

"Mom, I really don't…"

"No, eat first, then talk." Joyce sat and sipped her coffee while she watched her wolf down her breakfast. She really didn't understand the whole Slayer burden that had been placed upon her daughter or why she was even chosen, but she could tell it was heavy and prevented the young woman from ever being just a normal person again. She tried to make allowances for that, but despite the shared blood bond between them, her daughter was becoming more and more of a stranger to her.

"How are your classes coming?" That seemed a safe course to follow.

"Okay, except for this one. The professor is like a million years old and forgets that he's supposed to actually lecture on the material and not himself. Worse than that, there is this group of girls who think he's a god. They just throw themselves at him and he eats it up. Go figure."

"Perhaps it has something to do with authority. Some young women love the sense of authority about a man."

"The only thing he's an authority on is middle age…opps, sorry, Mom."

"That's fine, make fun, you'll be fighting that battle some day yourself."

"If I'm lucky and not dead by then." Buffy spoke easily about death. It wasn't that it didn't frighten her; it was just something she faced daily. She'd become the Slayer because of death and only death would relieve her of its burden.

'How can you be so casual about it?' Joyce thought, but remained silent. It would only cause this conversation to go badly from this point onward. "Is the class so important that you can't drop it?"

"This late in the semester, I wouldn't be able to get into anything else and I need the units. At least it's almost over. Just basically a paper and the final."

"Will you be coming home for the break?"

"If you'll have me…do you think Dad will come?"

"The last I heard, he was honeymooning in Spain with his new wife, former secretary." Joyce's voice took on a wistful tone. "I wouldn't expect him."

Buffy sat for a moment and then looked shyly over at her mother, "Mom, how did you know it was right with Dad?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it right. It turned out pretty badly except for one or two things." She cupped her daughter's cheek. "But I would go through it all again just to have you."

Buffy leaned her face against her mother's hand and smiled. For a brief shining moment, she wasn't the Slayer. She was a regular girl with her regular mom in a regular life. Then, it was gone. "No, I mean what makes people chose, well, maybe not exactly the best person, but it's the only person they want. I mean there has to be something that exists at that moment that wipes away all misgivings and allows some sort of connection."

"And you're asking me this because…?"

"I see all my friends in relationships that are pretty off-the-wall partners that they would never have chosen a year ago and yet everything is working for them. Everything is right for everyone else and here sits Buffy, the freak."

"Sweetie, every young woman goes through this." Joyce sipped her coffee. "So, there's a young man in your life?"

"Not so young."

"Buffy, not the professor?"

Buffy choked on her orange juice and waved her hand. "Not while I'm drinking, Mom."

"Is it someone I know? Mr. Giles?

"Ewww, Mom, that's just wrong. Giles is Giles, all tweedy and bookie."

"Oh, I don't know about that. You know what they say about still waters."

"Okay, bad memories down that path, don't make me go there."

"It's just…"

"Mom, it's not Giles! Okay?"

"Fine, it's not Giles. Buffy, you're not taking up with Angel again."

"No," She sighed. "He made his feelings pretty clear when he dumped me."

"So this older man has caused feelings in you. Tell him."

"I can't! It's wrong!"

"Is he married?"

"No."

"Involved with someone else?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Gay?"

"Mom!" Buffy pushed her plate away. "It's just someone I should hate, okay? And I did for a long time…it's just…I don't hate him quite so much anymore. I don't even like him, I just want to be…with him, if you know what I mean."

"Ah. The throes of hormones."

"Oh yeah, big time, and there's the rub. What causes people to want others like that…?"

"To have or want to have a physical relationship with someone they shouldn't?" Joyce caressed her daughter's face and hair. "Sweetie, if I had the answer to that, I could afford to send you to Harvard instead of a state college. It's a mystery, dear, something that no one is able to answer. Most people put it down to wanting the unobtainable or doing something dangerous, which I might add you don't need any more of in your life. I usually just blame it on the weather or the moon."

"But what do you call it when someone can make you so mad, but so," she hesitated briefly, "horny at the same time?"

If her mother was shocked by her use of the word, she didn't let on. Instead, she adopted this air of calm acceptance. "I usually call it love."

"More good news." Buffy glanced over at the wall clock. "I gotta go. I told Giles I'd meet him and I'm almost late."

"Something?"

"Spike and I found some old guy last night in the cemetery." She started to rise and then looked down at her plate. "I'm sorry I was so rude to you last night."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to. Spike…"

"We…talked last night. He just makes me so crazy, Mom, that I can't see straight. For some reason, I can't hold on to any other man, but him I can't get rid of."

Joyce Summers smiled slightly and gestured towards the door. "You'll be late."

"Right." She kissed her mom and grabbed her backpack. "Love you." She called over her shoulder. Her mother shook her head and reached again for her coffee cup. "Ah to be young and in love – thank the heavens, I'm neither," she murmured to the fluid.

The bell to the Magic Box tinkled merrily when she walked in and Buffy glanced around. The place seemed deserted of customers and of her friends as well. Dust mites danced happily in the swirls that her entrance created.

"Hello," she asked the empty room. "Anyone here?"

"Hey, Buffy!" Willow called from the upper level. "We were just getting some…books up here."

"Hi, Willow, hi Tara." She didn't have to see the other witch to know she was up there too. Tara and Willow spent all their time together these days and Buffy was secretly jealous. Willow was her best friend and she didn't like having to share the red head. She wished she had someone…the thought trailed off as Spike stepped around the doorframe of the training room.

"What are you doing here," she demanded.

"I…I asked him to come around," Giles said, appeared from behind the vampire and entered the shop. "Since it was the two of you that discovered the body, I thought it best that I speak with you jointly." The man began to polish his glasses furiously as if embarrassed by something. Oh, no, not Spike and Giles? No, that could not be happening. She stopped, her mouth agape. And, hello, where did that though come from?

Hurriedly, to mask her embarrassment, she said, "Giles, it was just some old guy."

"That's where you're wrong, Buffy." Willow hurried down the stairs as quickly as she could without dropping the books. "I hacked into the police files this morning."

"I, of course, was unaware of it at the time." Giles pointed out.

"The dead guy was somebody called Morrie Balvenie,"

"Morrie Balvenie? There's your cause of death right there. He died from the embarrassment of his name."

"Buffy, he was 19 years old."

"What? No way, this guy had to be in his seventies at least! Spike, you were there! Back me up on this."

"There's no need to be defensive, Buffy. We believe you. Willow was nice enough to bring up the autopsy photos. Breakfast hasn't been settling since." Giles pushed aside a box of doughnuts at the small table to make room for her. "There was a second body found the night before at the Pine Crest Cemetery. By all accounts a young man, but the corpse is that of an old man."

"Vampire?"

"The autopsies didn't report any trauma to the neck area."

"Sides when we do 'em, they're dead, not old," Spike spoke up in his own defense.

"Did you notice anything…unusual at the scene?" Giles had folded his handkerchief and tucked it into his breast pocket, only to pull it out and refold it.

"Um, no…wait, yeah, there seemed to be a lot of people making out at the cemetery these days. Unless they closed down Lover's point again, I'm thinking that's not exactly a happening."

"No, it's still open and going strong," Xander said as he walked through the door, Anya trailing close behind him. "Why?"

"We're finding a bunch of dead old guys at the cemetery."

"Well, call me stupid, but isn't that where they belong," Anya asked, obviously confused. Being human was still something of a mystery to her. "You die and other people stand around, crying, saying how great you were and then they throw dirt on you."

"Cept for the fact that all these old guys were young just prior to dying." Spike hoisted himself up onto the counter, his preferred perch. No one could sneak up on him from there. And it gave him an unparallel view down the Slayer's blouse if she moved just so.

"Well, excuse us for missing that part of the presentation." Xander muttered under his breath and Spike smiled. Besides annoying Buffy, he loved yanking the whelp's chain.

"Yes, we were busy having sex," Anya said, walking to the table and sitting down. She immediately started rooting the doughnut box.

"Not with that hand, I hope," Spike muttered, smirking. He liked the ex-demon. She said exactly what was on her mind. No mixed signals would be likely to come from that bird. The group turned and made a face at Spike. "What? I'm just saying…"

"An!" Xander sputtered as Giles leaned closer to his former Slayer.

"Buffy, may I speak to you in the back?" Giles gestured towards the training room and the woman shrugged her shoulders.

"Sure, no prob. Xander, if you feel like killing Spike while I'm gone, I say you go for it. Empower yourself. And remember, he can't fight back."

Xander smiled weakly at the vampire and took his usual position at the table. "So what are we looking up here?"

"Giles thinks we may have a succubae on our hands."

"A what a ba?"

"It's a sex demon, sweetie," Anya said, sitting beside him. "It visits people at night and has sex with them."

"It's the way the early folk used to explain away naughty dreams," Willow said, color flushing her cheeks. "They were said to favor monks."

"At least it made for a good cover story," Tara said brightly.

"It's a vampire…of a sort," Spike said, slipping off the counter and edging closer to the training room door. "Instead of sucking blood, it sucks a body's life essence. Prefers to do it during sex when everything is…heightened, I guess you could say."

"Eww, that sort of takes the whole fun aspect out of it." Willow made a face at her partner and Tara shook her head.

"The victims don't feel anything…besides, you know, the good stuff." It was Tara's turn to blush now as she glanced shyly over at the grinning vampire.

"The victim doesn't even know it;" Spike said, grinning at the pair. He really liked the witch Red had paired herself up with. She reminded him of someone he'd known from long ago. He'd forgotten how it was to be young and still embarrassed by such things. "The victim has a really good time and just sort of drifts off to sleep…sleep of a permanent nature. Pretty humane way to go, I wager. Considering all the alternatives, I mean." He strained to hear what was being said between Slayer and Watcher, but could hear nothing. Thwarted, he went back to the conversation at hand. With any luck, he could get Xander and that she-demon of his to blush next.

"So what's up, Giles? You've been acting funny ever since I got here." Buffy hoisted herself up onto a vaulting pony. The man had moved them to the far end of the room, well out of everyone's, including vampires, hearing range. He wanted this to be private.

"Buffy, I need you to think very carefully. Did you notice any thing out of the ordinary the last couple of nights when you were patrolling? Particularly in the vicinity of the young couples you saw."

"Not as many vamps out as usual. You mean that?"

"No, I mean, physical feelings or sensations that seemed, well, out of place at the moment?"

"I'm not following you."

"The need to be…well, intimate with someone, anyone, even someone you'd not necessarily desire otherwise."

"What? Giles! Did my Mom call you?"

"Then you have?"

"Yeah, right okay, so I'm having feelings! It's not like I'm dead or anything! I may be the Slayer, but I'm still a woman!" Her voice was rising, as was the color in her cheeks. Not from embarrassment, but from anger. "What's wrong with being interested and don't give me any of that male chauvinism crap."

"Buffy, calm down. I'm not accusing or condemning you of anything." Giles raised his hands before him just in case his Slayer decided to take a swing at him. "Buffy, I have reason to believe that we are dealing with a very powerful demon here. It's a form of vampire, an energy vampire if you will. They become intimate with their victims, then in the very act of…um…ahem…that is to say…while they are intimate…he or she draws the essence from the victims. In order to lure their victims into a sense of sexuality, these demons permeate the air with pheromones. Anyone breathing them would be equally affected."

"You mean that why I wanted to…with…thank god, I thought I was going crazy."

"No, not crazy, just reacting normally in this situation."

"So these demons?

"Succubae, or at least I am assuming it is a woman, since the victims were young men."

"I could so have thought of a neater name than that. How do we kill them? Stake, sunlight, cold shower?"

"I am going to have to do some additional research, but I do know that they have to be summoned. They do not just normally appear on their own. Since, and again I am assuming we are dealing with a succubae, we could reason that the one who summoned it was a man. If it had been a woman, we would be dealing with an incubus."

"Ooo like the rock group? I could so do that." At Giles's shocked look, Buffy smiled slightly. "So I'm thinking not so much like the rock group. This job just keeps getting weirder and weirder, did I ever tell you that?"

He smiled fondly at the young woman. "It has come up a time or two, yes."

"How do I fight it? I mean, if it makes me feel all…wonky. Giles, I was having a hard time focusing my eyes, much less my fighting technique."

"That is where Spike comes in."

"This conversation has just gone from bad to yuck. A world of no, Giles. I don't want to be around him if I'm feeling all…that way. It could lead to bad evil things."

"Being a demon with essentially no life force, he isn't vulnerable to the succubae. He could, in effect, kill the demon, but detection is the key. He can't detect it, not like a human."

"So while the rest of us are flopping around on the ground like fishes, he's gonna like, what? Watch? Take pictures for the Internet? Giles, he's a demon, why would he help us fight another demon?"

"Because you are going to put on your best face and ask him nicely to help us."

"Giles!"

"Buffy, as much as it galls me to admit this, he responds to you and we need his help with this matter. Around this demon, we cannot help but revert to our most bestial state. We cannot fight this alone."

"Why won't the pheramagigees affect him?"

"He doesn't breath as a rule, Buffy. He has no means of taking the pheromones in. Besides, he's dead and the urge to reproduce isn't crucial to his existence. He isn't as… driven as we will be."

"I beg to differ. From what I've seen and heard, he's pretty…driven."

"Buffy, we need to be adult about this. It's time in your life to start putting asides petty differences and act for the common good."

"Petty differences? I'm the Vampire Slayer, he's a vampire and hence the whole reason for my existence. Not so petty from where I'm standing."

"Buffy, he'll help if you'll just ask him."

He checked out his look in the mirror. It seemed to him that he didn't have to stand quite so far away from the mirror to get all of him in it. And his hair seemed less gray with each passing moment. This was going even better than he could have hoped. He did feel just a passing twinge of guilt for the dead boys, but after all, old age and treachery will out do youth and ability any day. It wasn't like there was a major war taking out all of America's youth. No, there were still plenty of them littering the campus, making his conquests that much harder. His succubae would take care of that though. She lounged upon his couch, looking much like a snake digesting its meal. After she fed, she languished, sated and content. Even now he dared not approach her. He didn't think she would hurt him, but he wasn't going to take the risk. Not when everlasting youth beckoned him. He checked his watch and panicked. If he didn't leave soon, he'd be late for class.

"Come again?"

"Bad choice of words, Spike. You heard me," Buffy said, dryly. She hated when she had to ask the vampire for anything; she hated asking anyone for anything. She was the Slayer, strongest woman in the world, she should have everyone crawling to her feet, asking for help, not the other way round. Now she stood at the door to his crypt, practically pleading with the vampire for aid.

"Oh, I'm swept off my feet," Spike muttered, lighting a cigarette. "The Slayer needs help. Ooo, what's the world comin' to?" He took a deep puff and relaxed back in the armchair he was slung into. "What's in it for me?" The smoke curled around his head as he exhaled slowly.

"Why does there have to be anything in it for you? Why can't you just do it out of the goodness of your no-longer beating heart?"

"Because it's no longer beating and I don't do nothing lest it serves me and my needs."

"Fine. Blood, money, name it. What do you want?" She crossed her arms and awaited his answer.

'Besides you? Not bloody much,' he was tempted to answer. He knew a blow to his face would be the Slayer's response to that suggestion. And he knew deep down inside that he didn't have a chance with that route. No, the Slayer didn't want crass suggestions, she wanted romance, she wanted…. "Dinner."

"What?"

"Me and you. No snarky comments, no airs, just two people having dinner."

"I'm just supposed to what? Sit there and watch you drink blood? That's disgusting!"

Spike threw his hands up in the air and turned away. "No, I meant at a rest…you know what? Forget it! I should have known you couldn't do this." He pushed off chair and started to retreat to the lower reaches of his crypt. 'Deal with your demon all by your lonesome, unless of course you're too busy shagging the Whelp or your Watcher."

Buffy's mouth dropped open of the thought of being in said position. "I could have so lived a lifetime without that image. Maybe two lifetimes." She also realized that she had really no other option. And would dinner with Spike be so bad? She'd fed him blood from a 'Kiss the Librarian' mug after all.

"Spike, wait!"

Spike savagely threw his cigarette into a corner. He was so tired of fighting this battle. He knew he could never be with the one woman he wanted. He knew he needed to get on with his life, but it was as if he was caught in her gravitational pull and he couldn't break out of her orbit.

"You're right. I can't do this without you. Please."

"Please?" That stayed the vampire's feet as he glanced back over his shoulder at her. "Bet you're gonna feel that in the morning."

"What makes you think we can do it?"

"Do what?"

"Have dinner together? We can't even hold a conversation with each other without fighting."

"Doesn't have to be that way, you know." He turned and approached her, his body language sending her a message that made her stomach clench with nervousness.

"No, even when we were under Willow's 'do thy will' spell, we fought, almost constantly." Her voice had lowered as had her eyes.

"Well, seems to me there was other stuff happenin' too." He remembered her weight on his lap, her head resting on his shoulder, her breath in his ear, the whispered promises and the tightness in his…

"Don't remind me," Buffy ordered as if reading his thoughts. She took a deep breath and put on her resolve face. "Do we have a deal or not?"

"You know my conditions."

"I…accept your conditions. It's a mistake and it will end badly, but I will have dinner with you, Spike."

The side of Spike's mouth curled up into a smirk. "So what's this demon of yours look like?" He sat down on a crate that served as a makeshift end table.

"We don't know. I can't remember what the guy looked like, much less the woman. I was a little out of it."

"So I remember. If don't know what she looked like, how are we gonna find her? We can't just go around killing everyone who is having sex…although that might be fun and all."

"For someone who isn't…fix. You, on the other hand…can't." She made a scissor motion with her hand.

"Oi, Slayer! That's not nice."

"I said we'd have dinner. Never was it mentioned that I had to be nice to you."

"You agreed, no snarky comment."

Damn it, she'd forgotten that part. "Fine, no more cracks about you're not being able to...perform." She barely repressed a giggle. The vampire's eyes flashed gold.

"I should bite you."

"I should stake you." She stopped and started to laugh as she sunk down onto the crate beside him, her guard dropped for just a moment. "We really are a pair, you know that?"

"Has crossed my mind a time or two." For a long moment, they both sat quietly, Buffy staring at the dancing flames of the candles he always had lit about the crypt and Spike carefully watching her, listening to her breath.

"You'll help us?" Her voice was soft when she spoke.

"Of course, anything for a lady." When the Slayer's eyes focused upon him, he shrugged his shoulders. "Better than sitting around here all night trying to amuse myself. That gets pretty old pretty fast."

"Eww."

"I didn't mean that, Slayer. You think I can't find meself a willing partner? You volunteering?"

"This conversation is so over." She rose and walked to the door of the crypt. "Willow and Tara are in serious research mode down at the Magic Box. Xander and Anya are taking the first sweep."

"And they are going to what?"

"Report if they have any..umm..anxious moments."

"The whelp and the ex-demon? They're shagging nearly 24/7 now. How are they going to know?"

"Ah, good point. Maybe I should go find them." She started to open the door and the vampire was at her side. It frightened her how quickly vampires could move when they wanted to.

"Maybe I should go with you…in case you get, you know…anxious." He let his hand trail down his black tee shirt, stroking his stomach.

"You're a…"

"Pig, yeah, I know, but I'm also the best you got right now. He opened the door for her. "After you, pet."

Argument would have been useless, she knew that and she was secretly happy that Spike had joined her. She watched him now, alert, like an animal on the prowl.

"Spike?"

"Yea, Slayer?" He paused in his tracks to light the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips.

"What was it like…back then?"

"What was what like?"

"When you and Angel were my age. How did you go about…making contacts with each other? Dating? I asked Angel, but he was all avoidy."

Spike's first reaction was to rally against the name. He hated his grand sire and Buffy knew that. Hell, half the world knew that, but there was something in her voice that kept his anger in check.

"Angel's Irish, you know, they had their own rules. I know his dad wanted him to married a fine upstanding lady, but Liam had his own ideas. Bit of a tosser, he was, by his own admission."

"Tosser?"

"Liked to hang out in pubs, drink, fight, mess with the bar maids, that sort of thing. That's what he was doin' when Darla found him. Then she did him." He took a long pull on the cigarette. "Elevated him, I suppose, would not be the wrong word, in more ways than one." He let the smoke curl out his nose in gentle wisps.

"And you were so much better, I suppose?" Buffy's anger clipped the words off sharply.

"Naw, we were pretty much the same class, but I played the games. Didn't like it much and wasn't any bloody good at it, but I played anyways. It was expected of us by our parents and of society. You played nice and if you were lucky, you knew the chit you married."

"But how?"

"I'm gonna get no peace till I come across, am I?" Buffy shook her head and smiled.

Spike paused and took a deep breath, scenting the air. Convinced that they were demon safe at the moment, he hoisted himself up onto a low stonewall and patted the spot beside him. After the briefest of hesitations, Buffy joined him, keeping her distance.

"Right, so here goes, or at least what I remember of it. Mostly, you went to parties or to the theater, ballet, opera, or hosted dinners - take your pick, always chaperoned by your parents or a relative, especially if you were a young lady. We were seldom left alone with members of the opposite sex. If we spotted someone we were interested in, we presented our card to her house or to her escort and waited to see if we would be permitted to call, again fully chaperoned. Maybe if you were lucky, you could meet her at another party and dance, none too close, usually the women were on one side of the room and we were on the other. "

"Doesn't sound very romantic."

"It wasn't. It was bloody hell. Fella was lucky to get a snog in, much less a good tumble before the marriage. Usually, the merchandise was unseen, unused and untested before the wedding night. Hell, if a groom didn't deflower his bride on the wedding night, it was just cause for abandonment, though usually the guy or girl would just take someone on the side, since you mostly married for money or title. Love didn't get in the way of things much back then, least not with your husband or wife."

"Sounds pretty awful."

"Yeah, it was. Better now, but the 60's were better than this. So why all the questions, Slayer?"

"Just trying to figure things out."

"Anything in particular? Bloody hell!" His shout made Buffy nearly fall off the wall. He shook his hand where the cigarette had burnt down the filter. "You lead a man to distraction, Slayer." He blew on his burnt fingers.

"You're not a man, Spike, you're a…." An abrupt wash of emotion swept over Buffy. The white-haired vampire looked up and Buffy felt herself being carried away on a wave of passion as she looked into those blue eyes. It was as if she'd never seen them before, never saw the depths in them. Or the passion.

"Yeah, a pig, I know…Slayer, are you?" His question was crushed upon his lips as Buffy kissed him, hard, demanding and passionate. They tumbled from the wall to land, a tangle of arms and legs, onto the hard ground. He pushed her away. "What are you playing at? Wait, she's here isn't she?" He eluded Buffy's embrace, slipping out of his duster and tossing it in her face. "Now, pet, let's not to something that's going to get me staked in the morning." He pushed her away as she struggled with the coat.

"Spike wait, I love..."

"Yeah, yeah, talk to the hand, Buffy," He muttered as he moved off, quickly, quietly, blowing air out of his nose to clear her scent from it. He took several small intakes of the night air, much like a dog that was scenting a bone. His lips curled into a smirk. "Ah, there you are."

The woman looked up from her sitting position astride the boy. For his part, the boy was far too gone to see anything, to know anything except his own pleasure.

"C'mon pet, leave the boy alone. Why don't you see what a man can do for you?" Spike had one hand on his belt, pulling it and his pants down slightly, one hip jutted up. He moved the hand up to stroke his stomach sensually.

The demon smiled, her eyes wary. "You're not affected." She stood up, leaving the boy groping the air, much like a fish suddenly plucked from the water.

"Oh, I'd say everything about me is affected, luv. The look, the accent." He slammed out a powerhouse and it connected solidly with her chin. The blow threw her several feet back into the bushes. "The interest." Spike pulled the boy to his feet. "You need to take off now." He dragged the boy to his feet and gave him a push. There was a searing pain in his back where the succubae had kicked him. He kept his footing and swung around to face her.

"You want to play rough, do you, pet? That's fine with me. I love it rough." He shook his head, his game face sliding into place, his mouth open wide to reveal his fangs. "Had a bird that found it quite the turn on."

"Vampire," snarled the woman, her hair changed from black to red as she swung. "I should have known."

Spike leaned back, avoiding the blow. "Yes, and you should know this is my town. I don't right care for people chiseling in on my turf. I fought long and hard for this…cesspool of humanity." He gestured expansively. "It's not much, but it's mine. Now, why don't you be a good little shagging demon and take off."

"My master alone commands me."

"Great, then why don't you take me to him and I'll discuss it with him proper like?" He dipped easily away from her fist again. "You telegraphing, pet," he advised, blocking another and hitting her square in the mouth with a quick jab. "I've taken down two Slayers, old girl, you're gonna be a piece of…"

Spike was abruptly tackled to the ground, not by the demon, but by Buffy. Her hands were everywhere on him as his game face slid away.

"Perhaps I don't telegraph as much as you would think, vampire." The woman took a step away and closed her eyes. He could also see the waves of pheromones coming off her. The Slayer groaned as she pushed Spike's hands away, straddling him and pinning him down.

"Oh, god, Spike." Buffy's hands were on his shirt, ripping it from his pants as her fingers fumbled for his belt, his fly. "I need to…"

"Have fun, vampire. I intend to." With that, the succubae walked away, her body shimmering as she changed hair color once again. Her intended victim had not strayed far. In fact, he was waiting for her just around the bushes, anxious and ready for her tender ministrations.

"Buffy, stop."

"No, I want…lay still," she ordered, a powerful right cross following her order. The blow made Spike's eyes cross and his neck crack, but he managed to not lose consciousness.

"No, Buffy, you can't!" He struggled with her, taking blow after blow. "I can't believe I'm saying this." It would be so easy to let her take what she wanted, but it wasn't what he'd agreed to. He'd have the Slayer, but on his terms, not anyone else's. He bucked his hips up to knock her off.

Spike hadn't gotten any farther than his knees before Buffy was on him again, tearing his shirt up the back so that it hung to either side of him.

"God, I'm am so going to regret this." He shoved her away, sprang to his feet and punched Buffy in the face, full strength, then screamed as an explosion of pain ripped through his head, shooting down his spinal cord, searing a path through out his nervous system. His legs collapsed and he fell to the ground in a fetal position, hands clamped on either side of his head. After a moment, it lulled to a dull pain that would be with him for hours. This he knew from experience. It didn't matter. He'd been successful. The Slayer lay unconscious a few feet from him. A short time ago, he'd have fallen upon her, drinking his fill, perhaps even turning her into one of his kind. That was before his chip. Now, he crawled to her and gently pushed a strand of hair from her face as he weighted his options. He could chase after the succubae, but that would leave the Slayer unconscious and helpless to any other passing demon. No, he'd get back to that demon later. Now he needed to get Buffy some place safe before sunrise.

Giles was groggily aware of something thumping and it finally made its way through his sleep-clogged brain that someone or something was pounding on his front door. He clamored free of his bedding and made his way down the narrow staircase from the loft, picking up a sword as he went.

"Who is it?' he shouted through the heavy wooden door as he pulled on his robe and fumbled with his glasses.

"Open up, Watcher, she weights a right ton!"

Spike's voice registered and Giles undid the locks. The door burst open, wisps of smoke curling from the back of the vampire. "Bloody standard time," he snarled, dropping the still-unconscious Slayer into a chair. He slapped at the flames on his back as the Watcher knelt over his former charge.

"My god, Buffy! What happened?"

"What didn't happen?" Spike snarled, his eyes flashing gold against the pain. Giles abruptly became aware of the smoldering vampire and helped extinguish the last of the flames. He pulled the smoking remains of the shirt from the vampire and threw it to the floor, stamping it out. "That was my last clean shirt too. Now I gotta go steal a bunch more."

"Judging from your face, I'd say you met our demon."

"Yeah, but most of these are from her." He indicated Buffy with a nod of his head. The young woman was wrapped in his duster, holding tight about her as if it were a security blanket. "She gets right pissed when she doesn't get her way."

"Her way? What? Oh…oh my…"

"Got that right. Had to knock her out just to keep her honor intact. By then, our love-making machine had taken off." Spike sunk down into a chair, then hissing as the chair back came into contact with the burns. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he massaged his temples. "You got any aspirin, Watcher? The Government has given me a bloody head."

The Englishman disappeared for a moment, returning with a first aid kit, a washcloth and a bottle of amber liquid. He tossed the bottle to the vampire who caught it easily one handed.

"Single malt whiskey, Watcher, Council musta have been paying you better than I thought."

"It was a gift, if you must know, you git. Shut up and drink it." He opened the kit. The vampire took a mighty swig of whiskey. It wasn't going to help much, but at least it was something to take the edge off. Giles grimaced as he turned his attention to the vampire's back.

"Don't bother with those," came the soft admonishment. "See to Buffy." If the Watcher found it odd that the vampire referred to the young woman by his given name, he chose not to mention it.

"What did she look like? This demon," he asked, carefully dabbed at the burns with the washcloth.

"The demon?" Spike hissed at the ministrations, but sat quietly. "Shifted three times while I was watching her. Hair mostly, but she looked human enough. Pretty if you like that sort." He took another hearty swig of whiskey. "She's more powerful than I thought, judging from the effect she had on the Slayer. Took all I had to keep her off me. Buffy, I mean." He glanced over his shoulder at his fellow Englishman. "I did, you know. Kept her off me. I want her, but not like that."

Giles smiled slightly. "Once an Englishman, always the gentleman."

"Now don't be spread rumors about me, Rupert." He set down the bottle. "Do you have a blanket I could borrow? Gonna need one to get back to the crypt. I don't' think she's gonna give that," he indicated the coat with a jerk of his head. "…up without a fight and I frankly don't need another one."

A sigh, "The couch is yours, Spike, it's the least I can do for preserving Buffy's… integrity."

Spike's stomach suddenly growled and he looked a bit sheepish. "Ta, but I need to eat something before I start chewin' on my own arm. I've seen vampires do that; it's right tragic."

Giles pushed aside the first aid kit, straightened and then covered Buffy with an afghan, a present from Joyce Summers. He walked to the refrigerator and rummaged for a moment before pulling out an old bag of blood. He handed it to the vampire.

"Would this help? It might be a bit past expiration."

"As far as I'm concerned, blood don't have one," Spike said, his game face slipping into place. There was no time for niceties. His fangs punctured the bag and he drank in long deep swallows, eyes closed, until the bag was empty. Then he wiped around his mouth with his fingers and sucked them off as well. He wanted more, but it would have to do for now until he got home. Stiffly, he stood and carried the bag to the trash. He'd spent enough time here to know that the librarian preferred things neat.

"Nah, I should go. It won't do for me to be here when she wakes up. If she remembers what happened, well, it ain't gonna be pleasant for some of us. And the night is starting to catch up with me."

"I understand." Giles handed him a blanket and the vampire covered himself with it before dashing out into the sunlight.

When he arose this morning, he could tell something was different. He felt, well, taller in a way. Yes, that was it – he felt taller and stronger and much more vital than he had in years. If he was shock by his appearance when he looked into the newly installed bedroom mirror, it was only for a moment. He was, in fact, a good three or four inches taller; it must have been the height that encroaching age had stolen from him. He also seems to have acquired a slight tan at some point during the night. His skin had gone from its usual pasty white to a shimmering gold. It was then that he realized he hadn't put his glasses on and yet he could see everything clearly. He danced around his bedroom happily. This was simply too good to waste on students. He picked up the phone and dialed, doing something that he hadn't in years.

"Hello, Jenny? It's me. I'm not feeling too well today and think it might be best to stay at home. I don't want to infect the students this close to finals. I will take care of myself, yes. Thank you." The moment he cradled the phone, his mind was spinning. He'd never called in sick before and he felt liberated. This must have been how Scrooge felt, he thought to himself as he pulled on a pair of sweat pants. He'd lost so much weight and gain so much height that he looked slight clownish in them. He'd take care of that after he'd had some breakfast.

On his way to the kitchen, he stopped and looked at the demon. True to form, she was sprawled out on the couch, apparently asleep. A surge of compassion swept through him and he walked to her. Kneeling, he cupped the side of her face with his hand and smiled at her. This beautiful creature was responsible for this. He felt things, wanted to do…things that he'd not thought about in years. Well, he's thought about them, but nothing much beyond that.

Lilitu opened her eyes and smiled sleepily up at the man. The transformation was starting. She could see a familiar smile in those strange eyes. It wouldn't be long now. She nestled her head against the hand and drifted back to sleep. Once she'd brought her dead lover back, then the real feasting would begin.

Buffy stirred and then moaned. Her head was splitting and her mouth felt like someone had smashed it with a log. She opened her eyes slowly and it took her groggy mind a moment to register Giles's apartment.

"How did I get here," she asked no one in particular. She sat up on the second attempt and wished she hadn't tried. Her head hurt so badly that she felt nauseous.

"Spike brought you here," Giles said, softly, sitting across from her, offering her some aspirin and water.

"Spike? I don't…oh my god, " she moaned deep in her throat at the memories, falling back into the couch. "Giles, I tried to…if you had any feelings for me at all, you'd kill me as I sit here. Giles, it was horrible. I nearly raped.."

"I know. Spike told me. He said you tried to…ah…just before he…hit you."

"Spike hit me?" She sat up and took the pre-offered aspirin. "That explains my mouth."

"To prevent you from…yes." The watcher's glasses were off and being polished at an accelerated rate.

"But he didn't?"

"No."

"Well, color me surprised. I figured Spike would take every advantage, knowing what we do about him."

"I suppose, in spite of what we think of Spike, there is still a trace of decency in him…only the gods knows where."

Buffy massaged her temples. "Where is he? Did anyone else report anything?"

"Willow called to say another body had been found. Apparently you were too much of a…hindrance last night to allow Spike to eliminate the demon and she accomplished her mission."

"Oh, could this day get any worse?"

The front door opened and Xander and Anya entered.

"I would venture, yes." Giles stood and walked into the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he asked, "Would it occur to either of you to knock before coming into my home? I could be otherwise…engaged."

"Yes, especially with that succubae running around." Anya was her perky self. "Sweetie, I don't want to see Giles having sex with anyone. Perhaps we should call first next time. The though of Giles naked…"

"Buffster, are you okay?" Xander cut her off and moved to the Slayer's side. Anya rolled her eyes and made a face.

"She had a bit of a go at the demon last night." Giles offered by way of an explanation as he handed the young woman ice wrapped in a cloth.

"So I see. Rad looking bruise you got going there, Buff."

"Thanks, I feel so stylish." She held the ice to her mouth, wincing at the pressure.

"So what was it like, Buffy, locking horns with a sex demon?"

"There was no locking of anything," she blurted out and then stopped at her friend's look of complete confusion. "Giles, could you?"

"Certainly." Without wasting words, the Watcher reiterated the events of the evening.

"So Spike could have," Xander asked, incredulous.

"Yes."

"But he didn't?"

"No."

"That doesn't seem much like William to me." Anya was saying. "I remember a time back in the '20's when he took on an entire brothel…single handedly. Well, he didn't use his hands, well, I suppose he did, but mostly he used his…"

"We get the picture, Anya." Buffy cut her off before the vampire could penetrate her thoughts again. "How I wish I didn't…where is he now, Giles?"

"In his crypt recuperating."

"From what? I thought the demon didn't have any affect on him."

"She didn't, but the sun was rather high in the sky when he brought you in. I suspect he is sporting some rather nasty burns by now."

There was a timid knock on the door and Willow peeked in. "Is this a private meeting or can anyone join?"

"Willow, of course, you may come in," Giles said, glaring at Xander and Anya. "You see? This is how it is properly done. You knock and wait for someone to invite you in."

"Buffy, what happened?' Willow had dropped the books and papers she was carrying to rush to her friend's side. "You look terrible."

"Let's suffice it to say, succubae 3. Buffy 0."

"Maybe this will make you feel better, Professor Black called in sick today, so class got cancelled."

"Like I would show up with this bruise? I can't cover this up with makeup. One of our well-meaning counselors or faculty would be all over me, trying to find out how I got it. Then there would be uncomfortable questions about date abuse or something"

"Okay, how about this then? I've been doing a little research. I think I know who our succubae may be."

"Why? I mean that's great, but how?"

"Well, Giles said she had to be summoned. If you were in the market for a demon, wouldn't you go for the jumbo supreme version and not regular, especially since the price is about the same?"

"Yea, I guess," Buffy said, dropping the cloth.

"So the Sumerian version is extra, extra horny," Anya asked, wincing as Xander grabbed her hand and squeezed. "Ow, Xander!"

"Let's just say she got things done faster than the others. This is a picture of her."

"She had wings and chicken feet? Wouldn't that make her stand out in a crowd," Buffy said, frowning at the photo. "Do guys go for chicken feet?" She glanced down at her slightly out dated, but still stylish boots.

"Spike said she was human appearing, although he mentioned that she shifted her appearence three times while they were fighting." Giles offered his Slayer more ice and a cup of coffee, both of which she declined with a polite shake of her head.

"Only the really old and powerful ones can do that, pre-Mesopotamian. According to this text I translated, it said that all succubi and incubi stem from a single pair, called Lilitu and An, sort of like a demon Adam and Eve. It says that Lilitu would rise and call forth An and then the usual stuff about end of the world, that sort of thing followed. I'm going to do some more research. Maybe there's some sort of spell that will dispel her influence. It could give Buffy an edge."

"Great, I'll take anything you can give me, Will. Guess I should go find Spike and check him out…check out any information he has," Buffy said, standing. She looked down at her grass stained clothes and made a face. "But maybe I'd better swing by the dorm first. My mouth feels like the bottom of an ash tray."

"That's what you get from frenching a smoker," Anya said and made another face. "Xander, stop squeezing." Buffy looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"Anya, stop talking."

Lilitu rose from the couch and stared out at the afternoon sky. Soon it would be dark and she would leave this oppressive domicile to hunt. Her master had been out for a good part of the day and returned carrying many bags, no doubt clothes to fit his new body, his new image. Already she could sense that his mind was starting to cloud, that the thoughts of her beloved An were creeping into their new home and settling in. Soon, the master would become the host, then a victim and she and her beloved would rule this world as they were meant to have. It wouldn't be long now, another night or two and the transformation would be complete. All she had to do was avoid that one vampire who had staked this town as his. He could be a problem, but one that An could easily dispense of when he was fully restored. However, tonight she would hunt for herself. She wanted something older, something with less urgency and more maturity. She craved intelligence and knowledge from her next victim. It always offered an interesting piquant to the feasting. This she would have to search for when the time came.

Willow yawned and looked up from the table where she'd been sitting for what seemed like hours. No spells seemed exactly right, although she had found a dandy one for getting bloodstains out of linen. That would be helpful. Giles was quietly waiting on a customer and Anya was having a very animated discussion with a young man about the pros and cons of wormwort as a settling agent. Tara had slipped off for class and Xander was happily lost in the world of a "The Flash" comic book. Buffy had left hours ago, supposedly for a shower, but Willow had other thoughts. Her friend was so uneasy these days. Riley had left her so unsure of herself, almost fragile if that word could be attributed to the Slayer. She was open and vulnerable and working with Spike, who had professed his love for her. Willow knew but had promised Buffy secrecy from the rest of the gang. Two vampires, one Slayer - that was not going to end well.

The door to the Magic Box opened and Willow was shocked. It was the first time she'd seen Mrs. Summers at the store. She could see equal surprise on Giles's face as he hurried round the counter.

"Joyce, is there something wrong?"

"Rupert, is there some place we could talk privately?" The woman's uneasiness rolled off of her in waves and the man nodded as he came around the counter.

"Of course, there's room in back. Would you like some tea?" He ushered her into the back room, closing the door behind them.

"No, thank you." She looked around the room, at the tumbling horse, the various targets and weapons.

"This is Buffy's training room." Giles offered by way of explanation.

"Oh, it's nice, in a militant sort of way. Very weapony."

"So, what brings you to the Magic Box?" They sat in two folding chairs that Giles arranged for them.

"I'm worried about Buffy. She 's taken Riley's leaving very roughly and she's vulnerable right now."

"Yes, I quite agree."

"I know that you and she are quite close, that she looks up to you. I'm just afraid that…she might be transferring her feelings from Riley to someone else. Someone close that she works with…"

"You're not suggesting that Buffy has feelings for me?" Giles's voice conveyed his disbelief at the suggestion.

"Well, yes, she does." Then Joyce stopped and her cheeks colored slightly. "Oh, my, no, not those types of feeling," she said, laughing. "She thinks of you as a father. I was hoping that she might come to you for advice."

"Oh." Giles sounded almost disappointed. "Well, it suppose that she would, although it's not unheard of for a Slayer and Watcher to…" He stopped at Joyce' s open-mouth stare. "Not that I would or that she would. In this case, it's entirely inappropriate."

"I was wondering if you could talk to her. I tried and it wasn't much help. She says there's someone she should hate, but doesn't. It's not love, or so she says." Joyce laughed and looked down at her clasped hands. "Summer women aren't known for their great choice in men, as I'm sure you've noticed. I just don't want Buffy to get hurt again, not after Angel and Riley. She's racking up too many bad memories as it is and I have a feeling…I just don't want her to make the same mistakes I did."

"What parent does?" Giles smiled at her and took her hands in his. "Joyce, you are doing everything you can, but Buffy needs to find her own way. If that means picking up some scars during the journey, then they will shape whom she is to become."

She sighed, "Was growing up this hard for us?"

"Worse, I should think." He smiled at the woman and wondered what sort of man could have possibly hurt a woman this kind, this sincere, and this beautiful. He suddenly felt great compassion for this woman, their shared history. And he remembered a time not too long ago when they had been more than just allies…

She had walked for a long time that night, looking at one passing male, then the next. Tonight she wanted something different. She walked by something called the Bronze, smiling at the waves of sexual energy it exuded. This is where she would take An when he emerged fully. It would be a wonderful spot to begin their feasting.

Her steps eventual led her to a shop tucked away in a corner, almost as if begging for people to ignore it. A magic shop, now this could be interesting.

Her scent preceded her. It always did. Spike rolled over to find her standing by the ladder that led down into his bedchamber, holding his duster before her as if it was a shield. She looked both awkward and uncomfortable. He let the sheets slip just enough so that she had an eyeful. True to form, the Slayer blushed and began a study of the walls around them. Spike chucked softly as he ran a hand through his tousled hair before dropping his hand to his mouth. His face was still a little sore from last night.

"'Morning, Slayer, you're a sight for sore eyes, which they are." He fell back against the pillows to stare up at the ceiling of the cave. The pain in his back was minimal. At her lack of comment, he continued. "So, not that I mind wakin' up and finding you here at my bedside, but it is rather suspicious."

"Umm, it's night, actually, and I…you forgot this at Giles's…we…need to patrol. Are you up to it?"

Spike sat up now, making sure the blankets hid how up he was. "Yeah, go on and I'll be there in a bit. The telly works, if you're of a mind, unless you want the floor show down here."

The young woman shook her head and scrambled back up the ladder. Fifteen minutes later, he climbed the ladder and found her sitting close to the candles, engrossed in a book. "Ready when you are, pet." He turned his head sideways to read the title. "Jane Eyre, eh? Good choice."

"It's sad. And it's terrible how they treated her."

"It's the way things were for women. You didn't have much choice if you were orphaned. Prayed a family member took you in and didn't hate you too much for it. Otherwise, you found yourself shipped off to an orphanage where things were inevitably so much worse. If you want to borrow it, you can. Just be careful with it, it's a first edition."

"You kept it all these years."

"Yeah, well, she was a nice lady, a bit addled, but my mum was fond of her." He stopped at the fridge and pulled out a bag of blood. Shielding himself from her view, he bit into the bag and drained it with quickly. He paused, trying to decide whether he wanted another or not when he heard her say softly,

"Thank you."

Spike looked over his shoulder at her and shrugged. "Based on past conversations, I didn't think you wanted to watch me eat."

"I meant last night. Thank you for not taking advantage of the situation."

"Caught me at a weak moment, that's all. Won't happen again, so you behave yourself tonight." He wiped his mouth off and scooped up his jacket. "Ta for bringing this by. I'd feel right lost without it." He snapped his fingers, making Buffy jump and nearly dropping the book. "Got somethin' for you." He went to a worn chest and opened it, sifting through the contents. "Should be right here on top."

Buffy, suspicious, felt her hand drift closer to the stake she kept hidden in her jacket. At the sight of a pad of paper, she let the hand drop. Spike couldn't hurt her, but she just couldn't fight back her slayer instincts.

"When I got back this morning, I did that. It's not as good as **his**, but it might make the witch's search a bit easier." He held out the drawing to her of a pencil sketch of a woman. Buffy took the pad and studied the drawing.

"This is really good. Were you an artist…before?"

"Naw, just something I played at. Wasn't much else to entertain myself with in those days, no tellys or the like and I wasn't much at musical things. Everyone did a little bit of sketching in those days."

"We should get this to Giles." Buffy's hands ached to see what else had been sketched in the book, but she resisted. It gave her a queasy feeling just thinking that they might be filled with her likeness. It was too much like Angel. "Willow said that this succubae is probably Sumerian. She thinks its name is…Lilitu?"

"Makes sense. You could smell the power on her…among other things."

"That's gross."

"No, that's life, Slayer, and that's what she's stealing from these whelps." He pulled open the crypt door and stood aside so she could precede him. The night was cool, perfect tracking weather, and he drew a deep breath, scenting the air. Now that he was familiar with the demon's scent, he would be able track her the minute she started to feed, but he didn't share that with the young blonde woman walking behind him. If she knew that, she might be inclined to beg off, put distance between them and Spike didn't want that. "So, where to, Slayer?"

"Since she seems to have a fondness for college boys, probably over at Everlast, that's the closest to the college."

"But none of the attacks have been there." Spike stopped so abruptly that Buffy slammed into him.

"Do you mind?"

"Wait a bit." He turned to face her. "Why haven't these attacks been at the college itself? She could walk into a fraternity and do the whole lot. Why hasn't she?"

"Maybe she doesn't like group sex?"

"Haven't met one who didn't…long story. Remind me never to tell it to you." He took a step and then shook his head. "Doesn't make any sense. Succubi are just like us…like me." He put a long-fingered hand to his chest. "They will feed even when there isn't a need, just for the pleasure of it."

"That's disgusting, Spike."

"What? Like you've never had dessert? Don't need it, but that doesn't stop you from wanting it now, does it? So what would make me feed only once a night?"

"And the answer would be?"

The white head shook slowly as he resumed walking. "Nothing. Nothing would keep me from feeding in the old days, unless I was busy or something else came up."

"So maybe this succubae has more control than you."

"Scuse me?"

"I mean, maybe she's on a diet. Or something?" Buffy's tone was hopeful.

"Naw, she must be channeling to a human host. Can't feed those fellas too fast or their heads explode…not actually explode and it ain't necessarily their head, but it ain't pretty, mind you."

"So she's channeling…what does that mean exactly?"

"It means that she's draw the life essence out of these poor prigs and gives it up to her human master, and keeping just enough to keep herself going."

"Why?"

"How best to explain it. It's like when you lease a car. The dealer lets you have the car in exchange for monthly payments, then at the end of the agreed upon time, there is one final payment."

"The balloon payment. My mom's sweating one now."

"You can either pay it and own the car or get another one and start all over again."

"Call me dense, but…"

"Okay, somebody has made a deal with this demon. He summoned her, gving her form and substance again. She's paying him back by feeding and channeling back to him. What do people want these days, Slayer?"

"Probably the same as always, money, power, fame…maybe Cordellia's father called him to get out of debt with the IRS."

"Wrong demon for that. You'd want a Gorthac demon for that."

"Gorthac?"

"What the hell did you think happened to all those dead lawyers? They just transmutate into Gorthacs. Saved my ass a time or two, they did. Course, they cost an arm and a leg, almost literally."

Buffy's gaze had fallen to Spike's legs.

"I'll show you the scars some day. Still doesn't answer the question."

Suddenly Buffy snapped her fingers, "Professor Black."

"Beg your pardon?"

"One of our professors at school. He's been looking seriously different this past week. Willow thought it was hair plugs and I thought he'd bought a girdle or something and started coloring his hair. Will told me that he called in sick today and that's like the first time in forever. Maybe he's our guy."

"You may have found your ace in the hole, Slayer. He may have made a deal with this demon for youth or eternal life or the like. If he did, you're gonna have to decide what to do."

"Do? I'll go in and kick his ass."

"Not so easy, 'specially if his demon hasn't gotten her balloon payment. No matter what magic you perform, there's always a price that needs to be paid. Always. Don't know if your professor chum knows that. If he didn't, he's already dead. If he did and thinks he can weasel his way out of it, well, he'll wish he was dead. Those lasses don't like bein' denied their due."

"More scars?"

"Yup." However Spike was smiling at the memory and he sighed, unconsciously stroking his stomach. "Good times."

"So let's go pay Professor Black a visit and see if he's our guy. Let me stop at Giles's to tell him what we've found out. Willow's at the Magic Box, trying to find a spell that might help repel Lilitu's effects. Willow said something about Lilitu bringing back An, her partner. After that, they pretty much will have their say."

"Another apocalypse? Must be Tuesday."

The Magic Shop's bell announced their presence, but no one came out to greet them. The shop, with its light on beckoned people in, but it seemed empty. The sensation hit her as they walked into the store and. Buffy sunk to the top steps, holding her hands over her face, trying to keep from breathing the air.

"Slayer?"

"Stay away from me, Spike. She's here."

Spike took one step into the shop and shook his head. "Stay here."

"Not likely." Buffy started to stand.

"Slayer, if this demon is here, do you really want to see what might be in that back room?"

The vampire quickly crossed the shop and glanced into the back room before shielding his eyes. "Oh, yea, I'd say, she's really been here based on the condition of your gang." He ran away from the room, scooping up Buffy and dragging her into the cool California air. "Deep breaths, Slayer." He held her close to him, keeping her from moving too much against him. "Cor, Slayer, you'd make a fine lap dancer."

"Do you mind?" Buffy struggled against him.

"Not at all, pet," he purred in her ear.

"I mean, let me go."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Do you want me to convince you?" Suddenly the vampire found himself airborne, only to abruptly landed upon his back, the instep of Buffy's boot on his throat. "Making my point?"

"Yea, point taken." He pushed her foot away and sat up. "Obviously the witch didn't find her spell."

"Yea, how are we going to fight this, Spike?"

"We're not, I am."

"Excuse me?"

"Slayer, I can't have you flashing your lily whites every time she's around. Leads a man to distraction, it does."

"You're not a man, Spike."

"And thank your lucky stars for that. Otherwise, your reputation would be mud." He stood and looked back at the shop. "Guess I should go air the place out."

"Will it hurt them?"

"Naw, lest they fall off that vaulting horse. How good are your mum's bones?"

"MY MOTHER?"

"Think so. Couldn't tell, the whelp was in the way."

"Oh my god," Buffy groaned and started in the direction of the shop. Her movements were halted as Spike caught her arm.

"Slayer…"

"Spike, it's my mother!"

"Buffy, if you go back in there, you'll just make matters worse. I'll go."

One by one, Spike dragged or carried people from the Magic Shop, fending off more than share of groping hands. And one by one, the protests grew very quiet as the night air drove away the pheromones. Red-faced guilt rolled in, driving would-be lovers apart away from their partner's arms. Buffy sat with her mother, holding her and rubbing her back.

"I can't believe. I am so embarrassed," Joyce muttered, pulling Spike duster closer around her.

"Welcome to my world," Buffy murmured. "It wasn't your fault, Mom. There's this demon who going around making people…wonky."

"But one minute I was talking to Mr. Giles an the next – it was like a bad scene out of "Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice."

"There are more people in there? Spike?"

Spike was struggling to right his clothes while being enthusiastically groped by Anya. "Didn't see anyone else."

"Giles?"

"Can't rightly say that I saw him. I was busy with other things." He pushed Anya's hands away "Harris, if you can't handled her…" he threatened as the man pulled the ex-demon away from the vampire.

"C'mon, An, let the nice vampire alone."

"But he's so…" Anya's voice trailed off. "Xander, what are we doing out here? Why aren't we having sex?"

Xander hugged her closely. "There's my girl."

Buffy had left her mother and moved to Spike's side. "I need you to go back in there and see if you can find Giles."

"I suspect if he was in there, Slayer, he would have been in the group, unless he's into a solo sort of you-know." Spike made the appropriate gesture and Buffy made a face.

"Ewww."

"Right, I'll go look. You take your mum home and stay with her."

"Spike"

"Buffy, I'm serious." He took her by both shoulders and looked into her eyes. "If this demon of yours is Lilitu, then she's about to make the jump to the big time. She brings back her sweetie bear and it's gonna be lights out for Sunnyhell and everyone else. Let me deal with this."

"But I'm the Slayer."

"And I'm a demon. Let me handle this…please.

"But…"

"Look, I couldn't bear it if you or your mum was hurt, all right?" He pushed a strand of hair from her face. "Just take care of her. For once in your life, act like a loving daughter."

Fire burned in Buffy's cheeks at the crack and she struggled for a come back, but the vampire was already gone.

"That holy-than-thou vampire," she muttered, walking back to her mother's side. "Come on, Mom, let's get you home and cleaned up."

She got her mother tucked into bed and brought her a cup of tea. Joyce had grown very quiet as Buffy explained, as gently as possible, what they were dealing with.

"So this demon…Lilitu was responsible for that whole scene?"

"And I'm going to stop it. But right now, I just need to know that you're okay."

"I still feel pretty embarrassed."

"No more than the others. Well, with the exception of Anya, no more than the others." Buffy brushed a strand of hair from her mom's face. "Now I know how you feel when I come home all upset."

"But it's usually not because you've been having group sex with your daughter's friends." A look of panic crossed her mother's face. "Is it? You haven't?"

"A world of not on your life. Spike has been keeping me...chaste." She took the cup from her mother. "Now, you get some sleep and I'll see you later."

"Where are you going?"

"To find Spike. He seemed to think he could get a bead on this demon. He may need a little back up."

"Be careful."

"Always am."

Giles woke up feeling rather like he was in a drunken stupor. He cracked open one eye and watched as the demon moved easily around him. He wasn't restrained in any way, but he felt as if his limbs were made of jelly and completely beyond his control. He squinted at a fuzzy image.

"Lilitu, I believe?"

As he spoke her name, the demon glanced over at him and smiled, her hair shifting from auburn to a deep mahogany. She bowed to him.

"You know of me. I am honored."

"How did I get here?"

"You were overcome, along with those other mortals. I do not share my spoils with anyone."

"Not even your master?"

"Soon he will be of little consequence. Soon my Beloved will rise and together we shall create chaos as the world has never known."

"You sure of that, pet?"

The succubae spun and glared at the vampire standing there. "What are you doing here, vampire?" She spat out the words.

"Told you," Spike said, pausing to light a cigarette. "You telegraph. Half of Sunnyhell knows you're here. You leave a scent trail a mile across. You okay there, Rupert?"

"Just dandy," Giles muttered, suddenly realizing that he was naked. "Just go for a walk in the park then, shall I?"

"You will remain as you are," Lilitu said, her attention never leaving the white-haired demon. " I am through with your interruptions."

Spike bent backwards to dodge the punch. "Rupert, you get any ideas about us bein' a twosome, I appreciate it if you keep them to yourself."

"You got that bloody right. I'm as broad minded as the next chap, but I can assure you, I have no designs upon you." Giles spotted his pants and started to crawl in their direction as Lilitu connected with Spike's chin. The vampire flung backwards, tripping over the Watcher to land on his back. "Do you mind?"

Spike glared at him and wiped the blood oozing from his nose. "Why do they always go for the nose?"

"Possibly because you keep sticking it in where it doesn't – look out!" He managed to drag the vampire aside just as a rock came crashing down. Spike jumped up and launched himself back into the fray. Giles managed to get his pants on and discovered his glasses in the pocket. Suppressing a shout of delight, he pulled them on and very quickly wished he'd left them off. The vampire was down and the succubae straddled him, raining blow upon blow to his face. Not even a vampire could stand the abuse she unleashed upon him for long.

Giles struggled to his feet, determined that if he should die, at least he would go down fighting. He hauled Lilitu off the vampire by her hair, giving Spike the much-needed chance to regain his feet.

Furious, the succubae turned her attention to the pitiful human that tried to intervene. True, it might be fun to have had this mortal, but her anger had overtaken her need to feed. She swung a fist at the Watcher, but it never had a chance to connect. It was caught, stayed in mid flight by a slender hand.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join?" Buffy asked, politely, just before slamming a fist into the demon's face. "Now, you weren't thinking of doing what I think you were thinking of doing, were you? There should be rules, albeit unspoken ones, that demon should only beat on other demons." She looked over her shoulder. "Giles, you need to leave now."

"But you?"

"Oh, I think Lilitu and I are gonna have a little girl heart-to-heart."

"I don't think so, mortal." The demon closed her eyes, intent upon radiating the pheromones that would render all about her helpless.

"Not so fast, sister." Buffy let her Slayer strength do the talking for her. She unleashed all her pent-up frustration, anger, confusion and guilt at the demon. Lilitu staggered back, stunned by each blow, each kick. Then by some chance, she had an opening and used it, throwing all of her energy into delivering the blow. The impact sent Buffy flying through the air and into a tree. Groggy, the Slayer staggered to her knees. Giles moved in to help and was tossed aside by Lilitu, much in the way someone would discard an empty soda bottle.

"Now you will taste my fury."

"Don't think so, luv," Spike said from behind her. Before the demon had a chance to even look, the vampire had grasped Lilitu's head and twisted hard. The movement was so fast that neither demon nor human could react. One moment, she was a threatening evil force and the next she laid a crumbled heap upon the ground. "That's what you get for breaking my nose, bitch." Spike leaned over, hands braced on his knees to keep upright. He took a deep sniff and swiped the blood from his face with the back of a still shaking hand. after a moment, he gained the upper hand over his complainng body and straightened, Walking to the Slayer, he offered a hand, the unbloodied one.

She took it, and he pulled her to her feet as she mumbled, "Giles?"

"I'm all right," the watched said, climbing to his feet. He twisted his back and grimaced. "Not quite the quiet evening at home I'd imagined."

"I dunno, you nearly got shagged, that must beat the bloody hell out of a cuppa and Masterpiece Theater." Spike again wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and resisted licking it off.

Giles glared at him for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. He offered it to the vampire.

"Ta, Rupert." He held it to his nose and gently manipulated it. "That straight?"

"Looks like. Is she dead," Buffy asked.

"Looks like. I'll rip her head off if you want. Wouldn't be a problem."

"Ugh, no, so not necessary." Buffy regarded the dead demon that was starting to crumble around the edges. "I think she's the biodegradable sort. Poor Professor Black. Guess he'll be heartbroken."

"Who?' Giles was studying the immediate area.

"Spike and I reasoned if was Professor Black that called forth Lilitu to begin with. I'm thinking for eternal youth."

Giles found his shirt and started to pull it on. "He nearly unleashed horrific terror onto the world because he was worried about some male pattern balding. I seriously hope that he gets gout from all of this." He buttoned the shirt as best he could.

"He'll get a lot worse," Spike said as the last wash of adrenaline left his body. "There's always a price with magic. Doesn't matter if it's successful or not, you're still gonna pay. I suspect the loan officer is about to pay him a call."

"I'm sorry, what? Who?"

Buffy laughed softly and shook her head. "Long boring story with even more boring points about compounding interest and balloon payments. Let's get you home."

Buffy Summers walked into the dorm and shook her head, not for the first time that evening. It had been a very strange week. By the time she'd reached her house, her mother had drifted off to sleep, so she's merely left a note and hurried back to the dorm building.

The next morning, she and Willow had arrived to American Theater to find a grad student mumbling out some story about how Professor Black had taken seriously ill and would be gone for the rest of the semester. The grad's lecture was a bit shaky and brief, but it was, thankfully, on the topic. The groupies were crushed by Professor Black's absence, but had regrouped enough by the end of week to flock about the grad with the same enthusiasm they had displayed for Professor Black..

The next bit of strangeness had shown up at her dorm at 6:30 the following night. She'd half expected the vampire to bail on their dinner date due to the beating the succubae had given him, but at the appointed time he'd arrived, looking as cleaned and polished as was possible for a member of the undead club and for someone who was still sporting a swollen nose and black eye.

Dinner had been okay. She discovered that Spike knew how to handle himself in a restaurant, possibly better than she did, since she used the wrong fork for her salad and used her dinner knife to butter her roll. True to her word, she bit her tongue and kept the conversation polite, even to the point of not yanking her hand back when he accidentally brushed it during the meal. It hadn't been the best night of her life, but not the worst either.

This was not to say that her confusion was gone. In fact, it had returned and brought several friends with it. She'd thought the meal would be hell and it wasn't. She thought Spike would be crass and rude, but he wasn't. He'd opened doors, ordered for her and even politely said good night at the door to the dorm without any of his usual insinuations.

"Hey," Willow said, looking up from her bed. She'd propped up a pillow and was reading.

"You still up? I would have thought you'd be out." Buffy looked at the door. "Or, you know, out." She mimed being asleep.

"I sort of felt the need to study tonight and I'm still looking over my shoulder. If Professor Black found out that we were the ones who took out his love demon, do you think he'll come after us?"

"According to what Giles and Spike told me, he paid back in a big way; all his acquired youth and then some, gone in one second. I don't think he can even walk right now, much less jump you in a dark alley. 'Sides, you got friends in high places."

"So…umm…how was dinner?"

"It was…nice…for it being Spike and all." She draped her jacket over the back of a chair. "I wonder what he was like when he was human, besides not being able to write poetry."

"Ask him. He'll tell you."

"That's what scares me. He's the one guy I can't stand and yet the only one I seem to be able to relate to these days. What's up with that? Things are just so jacked these days, Will. It used to be that you could tell who was bad and who was good."

"Maybe we should all get signs. Oh, or hats could be involved."

"Ooo, fashion sense for the undead, you have a niche market there, Will." She rapidly undressed, pulled on a long tee shirt and climbed into bed. She reached for her pillows to fluff them up and stopped so abruptly that she caught Willow's attention.

"Buffy, what's wrong? Are you sick?"

"No, just surprised." She held up the copy of Jane Eyre that had been hidden under her pillow. "I wasn't expecting this." She flipped open the book and looked at the neat handwriting on the title page. "Sometimes out of sadness is borne great joy. The trick is to chose your path wisely and keep your foot step steady and patience will reward," she read aloud.

"Bronte wrote that?"

"No, I think Spike did."

"Then I don't think his poetry is all that bad." Willow turned off her light, but Buffy continued to flip through the pages until she found her spot.

'Chapter Five,' she read. 'Five o'clock had hardly struck on the morning of the 19th of January when Bessie brought a candle into my closet and found me already up and nearly dressed…'

End


End file.
